chRONicles: Uncle David
by Samurai Crunchbird
Summary: A relaxing bike ride turns tragic in this fourth tale of the 'ch.RON.icles' group...RATED 'T' FOR A REASON! ...Complete...
1. Birthdays and Bicycles

_**My standard KP disclaimer:**_

I know Disney owns "Kim Possible"...lock, stock, and Rufus.

If they want to sue me, they have to get behind all my other creditors.

Since I am in south Florida, the line has formed to the right

…and goes all the way to Sacramento!

_**HOWEVER**__**,**_

_The 'Newbell Prize®', 'Mega Cone 3000®', 'Star-Blaster Pop®', 'Triple Choco-Bomb®',_

_the phrase 'frozen treats that can't be beat', 'Mr. Flopsy®', and 'Mr. Flopsy's Cone Cart®'_

_**ALL**__ belong to__** me**__...Thad Marster, The Samurai Crunchbird®._

_I will defend the rights to these original names…with my heart, my honor, my agent (Matthew Shrader), _

_**and**__ The Sword of the Ancient Mystics__® (also mine)__...though not _**_necessarily_**_ in that order!!_

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_**Opening notes:**_

**1)** Well, folks…this is the fourth story in the _'ch-__**RON**__-icles'_ series. These tales feature Ron Stoppable in many of his everyday adventures before he began joining 'you know who' on her missions.

_I feel I __**must**__ give fair notice in advance…__**This installment **__**IS**__** rated 'T'!!**__ Even though I am sure my loyal readers (both of you) may think it doesn't need to be raised from the usual 'K-Plus' once they read it, I feel a moral obligation to do so._

**2)**I realize the scene from 'A Sitch in Time' had Ron mention the drawbacks of going to BuenoNacho on a tricycle. I always thought there was more to it than that, maybe a 'mental block' keeping him from 'remembering' how to ride a bicycle. My words here attempt to reflect that deeper 'back-story'. For any other 'canon' issues, I invoke my 'AU License' (with restrictions requiring corrective lenses while driving).

_Also,_ _in replies to reviews for the last story, I told some of you I would use the name Amos instead of David. Given the potential for 'Amos and Andy' jokes that didn't fit this particular tale, I switched it back to David._

**Enjoy the show!**

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'_**ch-RON-icles: Uncle David'**_

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…_For Jody Hull. I forgive you…_

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_**The bicycle…**_

…For many children, it is the first real instrument of freedom and independence. If they wanted to go to their local library or a friend's house, they no longer had to beg their parents for a ride or spend half the day walking there…

…For parents, it was yet another sign their children were growing and maturing. It wouldn't be long before their sons and daughters would begin asking for the car keys and a later curfew…

…But a bicycle played a pivotal role in one of the strangest times up to that point in the life of one soon-to-be eleven-year-old boy in particular…

…_**Ron Stoppable.**_

A few days earlier, he and his best friend, Kim, were present at the grand opening of Middleton's first Bueno Nacho location. At that celebration, she expressed her frustration about their journey to the restaurant…

"_Ron," Kim complained, "I can't believe it took us this long to get here. With your extra weight, I had to pedal twice as hard just to go half as fast."_

_She looked into Ron's eyes, took a deep breath, and softened her tone. "I'm sorry I snapped at you. I just don't understand why you couldn't ride here on your __**own**__ bike."_

"_Don't blame me." Ron countered. "Ask your __**brothers**__ about that. Remember last week, when your 'fam' came over for that cook-out after your trip to Nana Possible's house?"_

_A look of shock gripped her face as she gasped, "You mean, they…"_

"_That's right, KP." Ron replied. "Those two took the whole thing apart and lined up the pieces in the garage, behind my dad's car."_

_A memory was triggered in the young girl's mind as she asked, "Didn't your dad have to go to the store to get more hamburgers and hot dogs?"_

_With a look of utter defeat, Ron sighed and responded, "Yep…and boy, was he mad about running over the bike frame. I mean, that thing was brand-new. I only rode it a few times that week, but I really looked forward to taking you up here in style!"_

"_OOOOOOOOOOOOOHH!" She growled. "When I get my hands on those twin dweebs, I'll…"_

"_Hold it, Kim!" Ron interrupted, desperately trying to diffuse the situation. "If they are twins...and they are dweebs...doesn't that make them...'**Tweebs**'?"_

_The laughter they shared completely eliminated the minuscule levels of frustration remaining in Kim's heart. Once again, the power of 'Ron-shine' was successfully used to savelives…even if it got on his best friend's last nerve sometimes._

"_Okay," Kim acquiesced with a hint of a smile, "when you get it fixed, it will be __**your**__ turn to bring __**me**__ up here."_

_Ron laughed and quipped, "I wouldn't want it any other way. Besides, there's not enough room for both of us in the front of my 'old folks' tricycle."_

_Referring to the three-wheeled transportation used primarily by Ron's Grandpa Jesse when he came to visit, Kim protested, "It's not like one of those little trikes we had when we were five, you know! I would've fit perfectly in the huge basket on the back of that monstrosity."  
_

"_Uh-huh. Yeah, sure." Ron observed. "Did you forget you're wearing a T-shirt today? I didn't want this bon-diggety time of snackage to be spoiled by some jerk calling you 'Waffle Arms' or something."_

_With a jolt of realization of how the basket's detail would have imprinted itself on her forearms, she relented, "Good point, Ron!"_

_Ron placed an arm around Kim's shoulder and declared, "Just 'having your back', KP."_

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…Elsewhere in Middleton, Andy was on the verge of a monumental triumph. It would be on a par with the monumental discoveries his father helped develop for the Apollo lunar modules. If only that man lived long enough to see Andy's breakthrough, he would have been extremely proud of the scientist.

Unfortunately, Andy lost the man he so highly revered when he was only five. His father died instantly in an accident involving the development of a heat-resistant shielding. Once it was perfected, the shielding was the prototype for the coating later used for the tiles on the underbelly of the Space Shuttle.

Andy was working hard on a solution to the worldwide energy crisis. The countless hours of pain, suffering, and tenacious effort produced a substance capable of burning one-tenth as quickly as regular gasoline, yet providing twenty percent more horsepower.

Since the substance was derived from a byproduct of a local plastics plant, it was much cheaper to produce and refine than regular gasoline as well. In addition, the non-toxic exhaust formed a two-inch biodegradable solid cube, which could easily be removed from a small compartment in the trunk after every re-fueling.

The possibilities for this energy source were practically endless in Andy's fertile mind…

He deduced in thought, _'If everybody switched to this new fuel, there would be no more ozone-depleting chemicals in the atmosphere…no more smog emissions…fresh, clean air for everybody!'_

His smile grew broader as his mind concluded, '_This fuel has the potential to—Dare I consider it?—__**save the WORLD!!**__'_

The only drawback was the permanent discoloration of anything that came in contact with the substance. It was not an insurmountable issue, however. All a person had to do was either let the substance biodegrade or let it dry in its cube form before taking it to a collection center. From there, enough collected blocks would be taken to an electrical plant to use instead of coal to burn for generators. When burned, the blocks would break down on a non-toxic molecular level due to the intense heat of burning them.

Andy simply needed to put this revolutionary new fuel to a road test. Once he compared those findings with all his other data, the Newbell Prize for chemistry was as good as his. Oh, sure…his previous failed experiments forced the fair-skinned, brown-haired, bespectacled man to leave the Middleton Institute of Science and Technology in shame.

This discovery, however, meant so much to Andy for many reasons. Of course, there would be the fame, fortune, and worldwide accolades he felt he richly deserved. More than that, it also provided one last opportunity for redemption—not only from his peers, but more importantly in the eyes of his father. Andy was sure the man was looking down at him from the heavens and would have finally been proud of his son…

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Today was officially Ron's eleventh birthday, but it fell on a Tuesday this year. His birthday party was scheduled for the following Saturday after Temple at J.P. Bearymore's Pizza Party-Torium. Ron was already anticipating the party as he sat on his bed and read the latest 'Fearless Ferret' comic book.

"Ronald," a voice called out from the garage, "could you come out here for a moment?"

Ron quickly recognized the voice and responded, "Sure thing, Dad. I'll be right there."

He walked into the garage and noticed both his father and Uncle David standing next to a large item. It came up just past the man's elbows and was covered with a black canvas tarp.

Confused, Ron inquired, "What's going on?"

Donald Stoppable smiled and responded, "Well, you know your mother's family all went to Colorado and mine all went to Colorado State, right?"

This had been a point of contention in their house at every family gathering they ever attended. It took every last ounce of respect and decency in Ron's body to restrain his thoughts.

In his head, he snarked, _'Alex, I'll take __**'DUUUUHHHH'**__ for 1,000! It's __**only**__ why we've been banned from Seder feasts every Passover by __**both**__ sides of the family.'_

Aloud, he chuckled and motioned toward his uncle, "Sure…everybody except you, Uncle Dave. You went to Nebraska, didn't you?"

David laughed along with Ron and agreed, "You know me, 'Little Man'…Never be normal!" Ron's smile grew broader each time his favorite uncle called him by that nickname and repeated the motto he adopted as his own.

A starry look appeared on Dave's face as he reminisced, "In fact, I met your Aunt Sarah while I was standing in line to buy tickets for the visitors' section that time we faced CSU in Fort Collins. She heard me taunt at a guy in a CU T-shirt, and the rest is history."

Donald suspiciously eyed his brother-in-law and declared, "Funny thing, Dave…to this very day, neither you nor my little sister will tell the rest of us what you said to that man."

David gave a wicked grin and replied, "That's just one of those 'little secrets' couples share."

Ron pointed toward the canvas-covered lump and queried, "Umm…Dad? Uncle Dave? What does any of that have to do with this tarp?"

"Well," Donald began, "your mother and I had a little…disagreement on who should get this for you…"

David started removing the tarp and concluded, "…so they compromised. Happy birthday, Ronnie!!"

The tarp was pulled away to reveal a brand new bike…with an interesting color scheme. The left side was adorned with green paint and _'COLORADO STATE RAMS'_ emblazoned in gold lettering on both the front and rear fenders. The right side was purely in black, except for the gold block lettering which read _'COLORADO BUFFALOES'_. Gold-toned reflectors, symbolizing the one common color for both schools, completely lined both wheels.

Even the back of the brown leather seat was an enduring symbol of the rivalry. Thanks to a 'split embroidery' process, the left side displayed the left half of the CSU 'Ram' logo, while the right side displayed the corresponding half of the CU 'Buffalo' counterpart.

Ron shouted, "BOO-Yeah!" He then hugged both Donald and David as he went on. "You guys ROCK! Thank you so much."

While Ron began his inspection of the bike, Donald said, "You're quite welcome, son. We just have to get it out of the way for now. Your mother and Nana Rose went with Sarah to Smarty Mart so they could get the decorations and order your cake for Saturday." He glanced at his watch and observed, "They should be back any minute."

"Awesome!" Ron beamed. "And I know just how to keep them from hitting it."

He hopped on the bike, pointed it toward the open garage doorway and crowed, "It's time to see what this baby can do!"

Donald quickly grabbed the bike's handlebars and countered, "Not yet, son."

As Ron's face contorted into disbelief, David produced a box large enough to hold a set of boots. It was wrapped in red paper adorned with a pattern of little white 'N's. A white ribbon and bow completed the box's decoration.

David handed the box to Ron and explained, "You'll need _these_, first."

Ron removed the ribbon and bow, ripped away the paper, opened the lid, and looked inside the box. Above a layer of white tissue paper sat knee and elbow pads, all in bright red. Each of the pads had embroidered white letters. The elbow pads simply read, _'NEBRASKA'_ while the knee pads declared the school's battle-cry, _'GO BIG RED!'_

After Ron placed the pads on his elbows and knees, he noticed a large lump underneath the tissue paper. He quickly moved the paper to reveal a helmet completely coated in white reflective paint. Its only markings were a strip of reflective red tape down the middle and a red 'N' on each side, made from the same reflective material. With a little help from his father, Ron was able to properly adjust the straps of the helmet so that it provided a comfortably snug fit on Ron's head.

Completely geared for safety, Ron looked up and saw Uncle David wearing a similar helmet and pads and holding a gleaming red bicycle beside him. Both sides of his bike had _'NEBRASKA'_ on the front fender and _'CORNHUSKERS'_ on the rear fender, with red reflectors lining both wheels.

"What do you say, 'Little Man'?" David offered. "Are you ready to roll?"

Like the cowboys of yesteryear did with their hats, the boy ran his finger across the front of his helmet and drawled, "A-Yup...I reckon I am!"

Sensing Ron's vivid imagination at work once again, David decided to play along. "Headin' anywhere in particular, hombre?"

Ron beamed a full smile, nodded in the general direction of the Possible house, and replied, "I got a place in mind. 'Mi amigo' is just over that ridge there. What do you say we rustle her up and mosey over to Bueno Nacho?"

David had to contain his laughter as he declared, "Pardner…Let's ride!"

With a couple of whoops and hollers, Ron and David pedalled off toward their intended destination…

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Andy checked and double-checked every component of the prototype car. He was most concerned with the fuel distribution. Since it was not set to completely burn itself like normal gasoline, the fuel tank had to be repositioned in the front of the car. This was to ensure the by-product would not cake itself in the fuel line by going all the way from the rear of the car, through the engine, and out the exhaust, like a regular gas engine would be configured.

Andy inspected the vehicle once more. He wanted to make sure every last detail of the trial run was perfect, as he knew there would be no second chances.

The route was simple enough. Since he was at the southern end of town, he would travel north on the Upperton Expressway and test the horsepower applications first. After taking the last northbound exit for Middleton, he would travel at leisurely pace until stopping at the home of the man who used to be his best friend long ago…until the man became one of his fiercest critics. Andy wanted the personal satisfaction of showing this man his most crowning achievement.

The car's performance far exceeded even Andy's expectations. It was smooth sailing in the high-speed arena that was the UppertonExpressway. The car's acceleration was smooth, and the automatic transmission shifted flawlessly. Its idle was quiet as Andy patiently waited at the light after exiting the expressway and turned onto the road leading toward Middleton's business district. The typical 'stop and go' traffic was easily managed, without as much as a twitch in the needle of fuel gauge.

Andy's car came to a stop at the sign just a few blocks north of his final destination. Andy took a deep breath and muttered to himself, "Okay, Andy, it's time to get your just reward. When Jimmy looks at this, it's going to drive him _**nuts!**_"

He lightly tapped on the gas pedal, just enough to get the car moving again. Suddenly, the accelerator stuck, causing the car to tear down the road at an alarming speed. Andy was doing his best to get the pedal to release its grip on the floor. He tried to throw it into neutral, to prevent any further increase in speed and allow the brakes to be safely applied. Despite his best efforts, the adrenaline flowing through his veins caused the gear shifter to break in his hands.

He steered through the traffic as best he could—that is, until he approached an impassable hazard. An ice cream vendor was surrounded by parents and children, with the only vacant part of the street being the opposite sidewalk, with two riders nearing that position on their bicycles…

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That sweltering Tuesday proved to be one of the hottest afternoons on record in Middleton. Since school was still a few weeks away from starting, ice cream vendors were enjoying the windfall of the increase in sales. Children and adults alike were looking for any kind of relief from the scorching summer heat.

One mobile vendor seemed to be more popular than the rest. His success came despite what some thought of him away from this job, had they ever discovered the man behind the make-up and costume. In a few hours, he would once again become Peter Hobble…the straight-laced, no-nonsense sergeant of the Middleton Police Department. For that sweltering Tuesday afternoon in mid-July, he still spread joy to the entire neighborhood as Mr. Flopsy…the lovable scamp who served up (as his sign proclaimed) 'frozen treats that can't be beat' out of 'Mr. Flopsy's Cone Cart'.

Kids loved his funny antics as Mr. Flopsyserved their ice cream with a smile and a quick joke. Parents loved his 'low-fat' frozen alternatives. Both groups loved the fact he was the only one of the vendors not to sharply raise his prices and gouge his customers in light of the recent heat wave.

The 'Cone Cart' was parked just outside the Possible residence. They were some of his best customers, with the boys each buying a 'Mega Cone 3000' and Kim getting a 'Pandaroo Cream-sicle' nearly every day Mr. Floppy ran this route.

Whenever she had 'time off' from the hospital, Dr. Anne Possible indulged in a 'Triple Choco-Bomb'. She knew full well the amount of exercise needed to burn off all those calories. Chasing after two sugar-charged sons and a 'highly-spirited' daughter all day proved more than an ample opportunity to do just that.

If only she had been home that day, she would have sprung into action after what transpired in those next few seconds…

…_From one direction, two figures on bicycles approached the truck…_

…_From the other direction, a car was hurtling uncontrollably toward the truck…_

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Ron and David approached the Possible house and saw the 'Cone Cart' parked just past the driveway. It seemed like dozens of people, including Kim and the aforementioned 'Tweebs', were already trying to place their orders.

"Uncle Dave," Ron called out as they pedaled, "Can we get a 'Star-Blaster Pop' first?"

"Sure thing, 'Little Man'." David yelled back. "I think we both need to cool off for a bit. Besides, it looks like that little red-head over there is sweet on you."

Before Ron could argue the point, he and David saw the car coming right at them. Instinctively, David repositioned his bike in an effort to shield Ron from the speeding sedan.

The automobile seemed to be aiming for the riders as it hopped the curb. It struck both of them with a sickening cacophony of metal and bone before spinning into a large maple tree.

The impact threw Ron completely off his bike. He felt his helmeted head smash into a solid surface before he bounced back onto the street, uncontrollably rolling a few times before resting on his back. He unsuccessfully tried moving around to search for his uncle. He felt his breath growing too short for any attempt to call out the man's name. Ron only felt the excruciating pain for another instant before darkness claimed his bloodied eyesight…

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…Andy quickly swerved the car away from the road, in an effort to keep it from hitting anybody. The attempt only caused the car to spin out of control, smacking directly into the riders. The angle of the impact caused the car's back tires to roll over the adult rider before ramming head-on into a nearby tree.

The seat belts snapped on impact, causing the deployed air bag to knock him to the floor. The broken remains of the gear shifter gashed his face as his head struck the steering column. Soon after that, the over-sized fuel tank ruptured, spilling its contents into the front seats of the car. Gallons upon gallons of the experimental fuel deluged over Andy, coating him from head to toe. The substance fossilized him as it began to slowly turn into a solid form…

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…Thankfully for all concerned, Officer Hobble (aka 'Mr. Flopsy') kept a walkie-talkie, tuned to the Middleton Police Department's official radio band, in the 'Cone Cart'. With the crowd's attention focused elsewhere, he closed the windows of the 'Cone Cart', changed quickly into his spare MPD uniform, and grabbed the walkie-talkie. While keeping the on-lookers away from the scene, he immediately called for help.

Within minutes, every available rescue worker in Middleton rushed to the scene. While policemen kept the crowds and news crews a safe distance from the scene, paramedics approached the cyclists first. Their assessment of the adult rider was abrupt. Checking for a pulse was a mere formality, as the lower half of the man was completely crushed under the frame of his bike. After police photographers captured enough images for their investigation, the paramedics covered the body with a sheet.

The boy, on the other hand, had a chance to pull through. Yes, his leg was broken in two places, his wrist was shattered, his ribs were cracked, and every one of his multiple head injuries was quite serious.

…_All things considered, it could've been much worse…_

The speed of the impact on the sidewalk split his helmet right down the middle. Were it not for that added protection, his skull would have been crushed instantly. The elbow and knee pads were shredded; but they did their job, as his elbows and knees merely sustained superficial cuts and bruises.

As the paramedics placed a collar brace on the boy's neck, his body grew still. They tried various methods to bring him back, but were finally forced to pull a sheet over him as well.

Other rescue workers rushed over to the car. Upon sight of the substance oozing from the windows, they quickly rushed back to their truck to don their 'haz-mat' suits. They forced the open the car's door with a metal-separation device called 'The Jaws of Life'. Hearing muffled screams inside a solid block of the substance, hammers and chisels were used to carefully chip away as much of the block as possible…

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_**Author's ending notes:**_

_While the conclusion of **this** tale will be released next week, I will still be posting further stories every two weeks until further notice._

_I hope you are enjoying these 'ch-__**RON**__-icles'._

_I have a few more of them, including a multi-chapter piece involving a magical mask and Ron's first venture into hockey. _

_**Please watch for new 'ch-RON-icles' as they come down the line.**_

The production of this story, like that for any work of fiction, is solely dependent upon the _constructive_ feedback of its readers. If you like it, I will gladly make more. If you think of ways to make it better, I am always open to suggestions. If you really think it's a piece of garbage, stop me before I strike again!! Once again, _**Review me, e-mail me if you wanna reach me! If you want to 'PM' me, that's ok!**_

Your friend in writing,

The Samurai Crunchbird


	2. Tunnel Walks and Melted Cheese

_**My standard KP disclaimer:**_

I know Disney owns "Kim Possible"...lock, stock, and Rufus.

If they want to sue me, they have to get behind all my other creditors.

Since I am in south Florida, the line has formed to the right

…and goes all the way to Sacramento!

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_**Opening notes:**_

**1)** _**This installment **__**IS**__** rated 'T'!!**__ I am sure those loyal readers (both of you) who caught the first chapter understand my reasoning behind that._

**2)** I realize the scene from 'A Sitch in Time' had Ron mention the drawbacks of going to Bueno Nacho on a tricycle. I always thought there was more to it than that, maybe a 'mental block' keeping him from 'remembering' how to ride a bicycle. My words here attempt to reflect that deeper 'back-story'. For any other 'canon' issues, I invoke my 'AU License' (with restrictions requiring corrective lenses while driving).

_Also,_ _in replies to reviews for the last story, I told some of you I would use the name Amos instead of David. Given the potential for 'Amos and Andy' jokes that didn't fit this particular tale, I switched it back to David._

**Enjoy the show!**

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'_**ch-RON-icles: Uncle David'**_

_**Chapter 2: Tunnel Walks and Melted Cheese**_

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…_For Jody Hull. I still forgive you…_

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…_Thankfully for all concerned, Officer Hobble (aka 'Mr. Flopsy') kept a walkie-talkie, tuned to the Middleton Police Department's official radio band, in the 'Cone Cart'. With the crowd's attention focused elsewhere, he closed the windows of the 'Cone Cart', changed quickly into his spare MPD uniform, and grabbed the walkie-talkie. While keeping the on-lookers away from the scene, he immediately called for help._

_Within minutes, every available rescue worker in Middleton rushed to the scene. While policemen kept the crowds and news crews a safe distance from the scene, paramedics approached the cyclists first. Their assessment of the adult rider was abrupt. Checking for a pulse was a mere formality, as the lower half of the man was completely crushed under the frame of his bike. After police photographers captured enough images for their investigation, the paramedics covered the body with a sheet._

_The boy, on the other hand, had a chance to pull through. Yes, his leg was broken in two places, his wrist was shattered, his ribs were cracked, and every one of his multiple head injuries was quite serious._

_**…All things considered, it could've been much worse…**_

_The speed of the impact on the sidewalk split his helmet right down the middle. Were it not for that added protection, his skull would have been crushed instantly. The elbow and knee pads were shredded; but they did their job, as his elbows and knees merely sustained superficial cuts and bruises._

_As the paramedics placed a collar brace on the boy's neck, his body grew still. They tried various methods to bring him back, but were finally forced to pull a sheet over him as well._

_Other rescue workers rushed over to the car. Upon sight of the substance oozing from the windows, they quickly rushed back to their truck to don their 'haz-mat' suits. They forced the open the car's door with a metal-separation device called 'The Jaws of Life'. Hearing muffled screams inside a solid block of the substance, hammers and chisels were used to carefully chip away as much of the block as possible…_

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…In all his research on this experimental fuel, Andy never explored the effects of immersion in the substance at room temperature without protective clothing, aprons, or gloves. Had he done so, he would have discovered a 'two-sided' coin, both physically and mentally.

While such a person healed quickly from nearly all physical maladies, pain registered with twice the normal intensity. If such a person suffered a paper cut, it would completely heal in minutes, but feel like the entire hand was severed.

The psychological damage to such exposure was another interesting duality. Elaborate and intricate plans could be devised nearly instantly. However, it also brought on numerous mental maladies, including delusions of grandeur, episodes of dementia, panic attacks, paranoia, and megalomania.

Clinically and literally, such a combination would serve as…

…_the ultimate definition of 'sick and wrong'…_

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…**Ron slowly opened his eyes to find nothing but white in his field of vision.** He slowly turned his head back and forth to gain his bearings. He discovered he was staring at an overcast sky, no longer feeling any pain.

He looked around and found himself near the bench in Middleton Park. Part of his mind remembered the fun he had here last month with Kim and her family.

Another part, however, posed two extremely puzzling questions…

…_How did he end up here, over half a mile from Kim's place…_

…_and where was Uncle David??_

"Hey, 'Little Man'!" A voice cheerfully called. "Are you okay?"

Ron slowly rose to his feet. Discovering the source of the question, he exclaimed, "Uncle Dave!"

Pulling the man into a tight embrace, Ron began to pepper him with questions…

"Are-you-okay-**What's-with-the-tux**-Weren't-you-wearing-your-'Herbie-Husker'-shirt-before-**What-happened-to-the-bikes**-And-the-car-**And-all-those-people**-And-the-ice-cream-truck-**Uncle-Dave-what-is-going-on-here**-Tell-me-_something!__**Anything!!PLEEEEEEEEEASE!!**_"

The speed of Ron's questions forced David to laugh for a moment. Indeed, his wardrobe had changed. During the bike ride, he wore his 'Herbie Husker' T-shirt, white socks, red sneakers, and white Bermuda shorts with his helmet and pads. Now, he stood before Ron while wearing a scarlet-colored tuxedo, complete with matching cummerbund, shoes, and bowtie, along with a cream-colored shirt and matching socks. The shades of red and white on the tuxedo reflected the color scheme of his collegiate 'alma mater'.

"Whoa, there!" David responded, pulling Ron away for a moment. "I've got so _much _I need to tell you, but we don't have much time."

"What do you mean?" Ron pleaded. "Where are you going?"

Not wanting to break Ron's heart, David chose his words carefully. "I have to go…on an important trip. I'm…not sure when I'll see you again."

Ron's eyes began to water. "Why, Uncle Dave?" he wondered. "Why do you have to go? Is it something I did…or something I didn't do?"

Ron tightly hugged David again and wept, "You're my favorite uncle…the _**only**_ one who ever visits me…the _**only**_ one who calls me 'Little Man', instead of treating me like a baby!"

After building a morsel of resolve, Ron tried to bargain with the man. "Can't I come along with you…at least until school starts again?"

David shook his head and replied, "Where I'm going, the only tickets are 'one way'. It may be a long time from now, but I'll look forward to seeing you again some day."

Ron's legs became unstable for a moment. This forced David to guide the two of them to a nearby bench.

"What am I gonna do now?" Ron yelled between sobs. "I mean…_Damn_ it all to _**Hell**_, Unc—"

"_**HEY!**_" David barked. "Watch the language!" His voice softened as he explained, "One of these days…maybe soon, maybe not for many years from now…you'll get the chance to join me where I am going. Whenever that time comes, you'll _**never**_ get past the front gate if you start disrespecting people like that."

Ron's face was horrified as cried, "I'm sorry, Uncle Dave. It's just that…You're the one who taught me to love life, and live it to the fullest…to never be normal, and be true to my heart…to see the good in everything and everyone, no matter what anyone else may think.

"You're my hero…and if I never see you again, I don't know what I'll do."

David touched Ron's forehead and chest as he declared, "I will always be with you in here…and in here. You will still have your mom and dad, along with visits from Grandpa Joe and Nana Rose, to keep you true to your essential 'Ron-ness'. There's also that nice family, the Possibles, to help you along the way. In fact I know one member of that family who loves you more than life itself…but has a funny way of showing it sometimes."

With a weak smile, Ron agreed, "I guess Mrs. Dr. P. _is_ like a second mom and everything."

David heartily scoffed, "No, not _her_…but you're much closer than you think!"

In the distance, the opening refrains of the Alan Parsons Project's 'Sirius' could be heard by both of them. David locked onto Ron's eyes and said, "You've got to listen to me. What I have to say is very important, and it's almost time to go. Your Aunt Rebecca in Wyoming has a little boy named Shawn. Be nice to the kid, even if he isn't nice to you. Can you do that for me?"

Ron nodded, "Of course. There's just one thing…Who's Aunt Rebecca?"

David laughed again and replied, "Oh, you'll meet a lot more of the family than you'll ever remember soon enough, once they know I've gone…on my trip."

His face grew serious as he continued, "There's something else…you may not know it yet, but if you follow that big heart of yours, you may even save the whole world some day. I'm talking not just once, but hundreds of times over."

It was Ron's turn to laugh while he shot back, "_Me?_ Save the _**WORLD?**_ Uncle Dave, did you sample too much of that bottle of wine before we left the house?"

The music grew louder as a white circular portal began to form beside David. He stood and replied, "I'm quite serious, 'Little Man'. I just need you to do one more favor, but it's very important. I need you to say goodbye to your Aunt Sarah for me."

"_**WHAT??**_" Ron screamed. "She's not going with you? I thought you _loved_ her. If you think _I'm_ taking this badly, that poor woman will be _**crushed!**_"

David placed his hands on Ron's shoulders and countered, "Not if you tell her this…" He bent down and whispered something in Ron's ear. Ron's eyes bulged wide, as if he received a great revelation.

Ron gulped, "Are you _**sure**_ you want me to tell her that?"

David grinned, "Absolutely…and if she doesn't believe that, tell her these four words…"

He whispered something else to Ron before hugging him one last time. The portal was full-size, and the song was playing at full volume.

David shouted, "Stay strong…and never be normal, 'Little Man'." With that statement, he walked through the opening.

After a moment of stunned silence, Ron tried walking through the same passage, only to have it grow into a white tunnel over a hundred yards long. Halfway through the tunnel he was able to look through to the other side of the passage. There, he saw an old man in a long, flowing robe. The man was pushing a lot of buttons on a computerized panel before looking up at Ron. Once he did that, he looked at a large viewing screen. The image on the screen was of a man who looked like Ron, except the man was in his late seventies.

"_**YOU!**_" The man at the controls shouted. "You're not supposed to be here. Go _**back**_…It's not your **_time_** yet!"

From where he stood, still fifty yards away from Ron, the man raised his right hand and brought his flattened palm forward. Ron felt the force of that motion as it pushed him backward, completely out of the tunnel and back into the park. An instant later, the tunnel closed and the music stopped.

Ron's backward motion caused his head to smack the railing of the cast-iron bench. He felt weary, but otherwise peaceful.

He whispered, "I won't let you down, Uncle Dave." as he slowly gave in to his exhaustion…

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

After several minutes of work, the rescue workers clad in 'haz-mat' suits chipped away enough of the blue substance to find an semi-conscious man. If they knew his appearance beforehand, they would have noticed several glaring changes. These included an additional six inches of height, shrunken hands and a cut soon to form a scar under his left eye. They would have also realized the dark circles completely surrounding eyes that no longer required glasses.

The biggest abnormality was easy to see by everyone within a fifty-yard radius of the man…

**…_his skin was perriwinkle in color._**

When he began to regain his bearings, one of the workers tried to ask the usual questions, such as 'Do you know where you are?', 'What is today's date?', and 'Who is the President of the United States?', among others.

He truthfully answered all of them to the best of his abilities, until the landmark question was posed…

…'_Do you know who you are?'_

At that question, he cackled a bit and recalled the name of a villain from one of his favorite monster movies, Professor Dragon.

"Who am I, you ask?" The man bellowed. "Why, I'm none other than Professor…No, wait…that's _Doctor Dragon!_"

His voice was still raspy from being entombed by his blue shell for so long. His response was improperly heard by the rescue worker as a name that would be synonymous with the scientist forever…

…"_I'm none other than Professor…No, wait…that's __**Doctor DRAKKEN!!**__"_

The rescue worker was frightened enough to freeze in place as Andrew Lipsky stood and ran from the scene. The other rescue workers and police officers were too busy with taking care of the bike riders and crowd control to notice his escape. Once he was a safe distance from the area, he made his way downtown and hid behind a dumpster until he succumbed to his lingering injuries.

Back at the crash site, all the rescue workers, policemen, and witnesses looked in shock as a voice rang out, clear as day…

"_**NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!**__"_

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

…**Ron slowly opened his eyes to discover nothing but white in his field of vision.** Unlike the wondrous scenery in Middleton Park, he saw nothing but white as turned his head…or at least tried to do so. He discovered his neck secured in a brace, preventing him from moving very far from one side to the other.

Another thing he quickly discovered was…pain! There was pain while he rested…_pain_ when he wanted to move his arm …_**pain**_ when he tried to breathe …and, from all the other cells of his body…even more_** PAIN!!**_

As he became perfectly still, the pain was not as excruciating. It subsided enough for him to make one more realization. He found that the whiteness of his vision was due to a sheet covering his body.

Even though he was proud to be a straight 'C' student, he immediately knew the white sheet over his head meant people thought he was…

He _**had**_ to let them know he was still alive…for no other reason than to keep his promise to Uncle David. Alas, his imaginary friend, Rufus, was unable to help him this time. He struggled to move his less-injured arm to the edge of the sheet. In one swift yank, he ripped it from his body and screamed, clear as day…

"_**NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!**__"_

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

When Andy woke a few hours later, he tried to remember the events leading to the crash, the man in the 'haz-mat' suit, his current complexion, or even the faces of those bike riders. He found he could not, as if suffering from some sort of anxiety-induced amnesia.

Andy realized he was next to a local tavern. Since he still had his wallet, he had enough cash to buy a drink or two before calling a cab for home. The money may have also been dyed with a light tinge of blue, but it still looked acceptable as legal tender.

The instant he set foot in the place, all eyes shifted toward him. They had just watched the local news on several of the tavern's screens. A minute before Andy's arrival, here was what the anchor read:

"_A family bike outing turned tragic in Middleton today. Thirty-six-year old David Stein, an acclaimed food critic for the Omaha World-Herald, and his nephew, a Middleton boy celebrating his eleventh birthday, were killed by a hit-and-run driver about a half a mile from Middleton Park. The boy's name is not being released because he is a minor child…_

"_Although the car, registered to a Patricia Lipsky of Middleton, crashed into a tree after hitting the cyclists, the driver escaped on foot…"_

…A picture taken by a news cameraman at the scene replaced the image of the anchor as she continued reading the story. Some graphics beside the picture gave the vital statistics read by the anchor. A few graphics below the picture displayed two phone numbers and the names of the agencies where those numbers belonged…

"_Middleton Police are searching for a man who identified himself as 'Doctor Drakken'. He stands between six-feet and six-feet-three inches tall, with a medium build, black hair, a cut below his left eye, abnormally-small hands, and blue skin. That's right, folks…blue skin. Police are asking anyone with information on his whereabouts to call Middleton Police or Colorado CrimeStop at the numbers on your screen. If your information leads to his arrest, you may be eligible for a reward…"_

…A piece of paper was handed to the anchor from 'off-camera'. The woman quickly read it aloud with a choked voice and huge, tearful smile to her face…

"_Ladies and gentlemen…we've just received…new information from the scene…that can only be described as nothing short…of a __**miracle**__…"_

Despite the anchor's revelation, the words 'eligible for a reward' were still ringing in the ears of the cash-strapped patrons when Andy stumbled into the tavern. Seconds later, dozens of bar-hoppers were chasing him through the streets of downtown Middleton.

It was only by sheer luck he had his house keys on a separate chain from those he left in the ignition of the wrecked car. The fob for the house keys also contained a homing beacon for his other new invention…a long-range hovercraft. By pressing a button on the fob, he could transmit a signal from as far as fifty miles away from the craft. It would then lock on to the signal and safely navigate its way to the fob's location.

Less than a minute after he pressed the button, the hovercraft gently landed at his feet. He boarded the craft and made a hasty getaway, but not before at least three of the bar patrons fired more than a dozen shots him. Fortunately for Andy, those particular patrons were already drunk, and their aim was horribly off-target…

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

"_**NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!**__"_

That one word acted like a starter's pistol, as paramedics ran a full sprint back to where Ron was laying. The paramedics applied numerous devices to his body, monitoring heart rate, blood pressure, and breathing.

As they were attaching the devices, the two paramedics exchanged some extremely heated words…

"What were you _**thinking**_, leaving him for dead like that?"

"What do you _**mean**_ 'What was I thinking?' He stopped moving, his eyes were glazed, he stopped breathing and he had no pulse after ten minutes of performing CPR. _TEN MINUTES_, man! What was I _**SUPPOSED**_ to think?"

"Ten minutes? Are you sure it was that long?"

"Absolutely! I checked my watch at each point. We got here at 3:14. It took me one minute to grab my gear and get to him. After two minutes of placing the collar on him and checking his vitals, he crashed and I had to start CPR. I kept it up until Jenny pulled me away at 3:27 and covered him. That's _**ten minutes**_ worth of CPR I did on this kid."

While the two of them were arguing, Ron was caught a glimpse of the watch worn by one of the paramedics…

_3:48 pm_

Even though Ron was almost finished doing the math, the owner of the watch looked Ron squarely in the eye and said, "Guess you've got a heck of a story to tell your grandchildren someday, kid…about the time you were _dead_ for _**twenty minutes!!**_"

Ron squeaked, "Twenty…minutes?" before closing his eyes again. The heart and lung monitors reassured the paramedics of Ron's state of mere unconsciousness, as opposed to the alternative they just finished discussing…

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

…**Ron slowly opened his eyes to discover nothing but white in his field of vision.** Unlike the previous sensations of pain and panic, he felt like he was floating on air. The only thing contrasting the white background was a vision of beauty in a white shirt and matching pants. Her flaming red hair gave an appearance of a radiant halo. Her glowing face was free of any makeup, though redness was evident from a long period of crying.

This led Ron's mouth to form a wide grin and ask, "Is this heaven? I'm sure it is…'cause you look like an _angel!_"

The face looked at him with shocked wonder. Without responding to his question, she briefly kissed him full on the mouth before she ran from the room and screamed, "_**MOM!!**_ Come _quickly!_ He's _**awake!**_"

This turn of events brought Ron back 'down to earth' and let him examine his surroundings. He found he was in a hospital room, with the whiteness being the ceiling tiles high above his bed. The pain returned to his body; but it was not as extensive as the last time he was awake.

Before he could make any more sense of his surroundings, he was bombarded by nurses checking his vital signs and doctors examining various charts before writing orders dealing with his recovery. One of those doctors was the mother of the 'angel', who he realized was his best friend, Kim Possible.

Ron blushed when his mind finally linked his earlier questions to his current situation. He hoped Kim would forgive him for that cheesy 'angel' comment. That was one heck of a kiss, though! No matter how good it felt, Ron guessed it was probably just a delusion from the side effects of the pain medication.

As his parents ran into the room, his mind continued its reboot. His father gripped his good shoulder and said, "Welcome back, my 'miracle boy'!"

Ron gave a quizzical look and asked, "What do you mean, 'miracle boy'? How long have I been out, anyway?"

His mother's face was filled with fresh tears as she hugged him and responded, "Five days, Ronnie…five days of pure Hell for both of us, dear!"

Dr. Anne Possible concurred, "Ron, you've been in a coma ever since you came here…and that's after being dead for twenty minutes on the scene. Thankfully, your CAT scans came back negative."

"Negative?" Ron wondered, his eyes motioning upward. "Does that mean I have nothing up there?"

"Not at all." She warmly smiled. "It just means there is no permanent brain damage. It's just like your dad said…a complete miracle, considering all your injuries. Still, it was a heck of a way to spend your birthday."

Soon, Ron's eyes shot wide open and he shouted, "Mom! Dad! Where's Aunt Sarah? I've gotta talk to her."

Jean turned to Ron and said, "Ronnie, Sarah had to go back to Omaha to make arrangements."

Ron argued, "But Mom…I have to talk to her. It's important! I promised Uncle Dave I'd—"

"Son," Donald interrupted, "I hate to tell you this…but your Uncle David is gone."

Ron shot back, "I know that, Dad. He gave me a couple of things to tell her before he went on his trip through the white tunnel."

Donald took a breath and sighed, "Ronald, you don't understand. He's…he's dead. His body was crushed by that car that hit the two of you. At least his passing was quick and without much pain."

Ron's eyes began to flow with tears as he begged, "Please, Dad. This makes it even more important that I talk to her. Uncle Dave was the one who forced me to make that promise. What I've got to say may be his dying wishes!"

"Now, Ronnie," Jean pleaded, "be reasonable. Your Aunt Sarah is suffering enough without having you spouting off some wild story about a tunnel."

"Mom, Dad, you know I love you both; but…" Ron quickly grabbed his intravenous tubes and demanded, "…if I don't get to talk to her, I swear I'll pull these tubes right out of my arm. I don't care how you get a hold of her, but I need to talk to her NOW!"

"RONALD!" Anne barked. "You don't have to do this!' She reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a cell phone. It may be considered old and clunky by today's standards, but it was 'state-of-the-art' at the time.

Her voice calmed as she continued, "I have an unlimited long distance plan, just in case I have to be called out-of-state for an emergency consultation." She poised her fingers on the panel and asked, "What's the number, Don?"

After she dialed the number Donald provided, there was a short pause to allow the receiving phone to ring.

"Hello, is Sarah Stein there?" She asked. After another short pause, she began, "Mrs. Stein, this is Dr. Anne Possible…Yes, Kim's mother…Why, thank you. She's a godsend to us all. Listen, I have some good news. Ron is awake, and he's...demanding to speak to you for some reason. He says it's important. Is it ok if I put it on speakerphone so Jean and Don can hear as well?"

After hearing a response, she added, "Great. Here he is now…"

She pressed a button on the top of the panel and placed the phone on the stand between Ron and his parents.

A shaky voice finally came across the speaker…

"Ronnie? It's Aunt Sarah. Thank God you're going to be okay!"

"Not so fast." Anne interjected. "He's still going to need some physical rehab to walk properly; and he'll have to spend the first couple of week of school on crutches."

"That's understandable." Sarah admitted. "Ronnie, Dr. Possible said you needed to talk to me about something?"

Ron eased his grip on the tubes and stated, "I know Uncle Dave is gone. Mom and Dad won't believe me…but I promised him I would tell you two things. He said no matter how strange they sounded, you'd understand."

An air of skepticism seeped through the phone. "_Okaayy_. What exactly did he tell you?"

Ron cleared his throat and replied, "First, he said to be sure you take the money for that Vegas vacation you two were planning and place it an account for Aaron's college fund. He said you will meet Aaron about eight months from now."

Donald quickly spoke up and asked, "Who's Aaron?"

A long period of sobbing ensued before the answer was revealed. "Aaron…or I _guess_ the name will be Aaron, now that Ron said it will be…is the baby I'm going to have. My doctor told me yesterday I'm three weeks along."

Sarah paused another moment to choke back more tears as she challenged, "David could have told you about the Vegas vacation while you two riding to the Possibles' house. How do we know you weren't just _guessing_ about the baby, Ronnie?"

Ron responded, "He thought you would wonder about that. That's why he told me the other thing…'No Buff too tough!'…whatever that means!"

More tears came from Sarah as she wailed, "Oh, my sweet Davie…It _**was**_ you! Wherever you are, I will give our Aaron the 'jump start' he will need for college."

Ron inquired, "What did he mean by 'No Buff too tough'?"

Her response was mixed with sobs and laughter. "That's…what he said…when he…taunted…that Colorado fan...back when we first met!"

Jean, the Colorado alumnus, smirked and muttered under her breath, "It figures!"

Sarah concluded by saying, "Thank you, Ronnie…Thank you so much…May God bless you all the days of what I hope will be a long and healthy life!"

As the hospital room fell into silence, a click was heard, indicating Sarah ended the call on her end.

"Well," Anne observed as she put the phone back into her pocket and checked her watch, "our star patient needs his rest for the night. His condition will be monitored 'round the clock', but I think the worst is over."

After they each gave Ron another gentle hug. His parents walked toward the door to the room. Jean turned around and asked, "Are you sure everything's going to be ok?"

Anne smiled and assured her, "Don't worry, Jean…If there's any change, I'll be sure to let you know."

Before facing the door again, she pointed to her own cellphone and said, "Thanks, Anne. Just call me or beep me, if you want to reach me."

Donald tapped a small device attached to his belt and offered, "When you want to page me, it's ok!"

Once they left, Anne sat next to Ron and noted, "Kim has been here every day waiting for you to come back to us. She was really shook up when she saw your body just lying there in the street…

"You _do _need your rest, but don't be surprised if she sneaks in here to check up on you…" She looked up and pointed her voice toward the door. "…even if she _should_ be going home now. _**Right, Kimmie?**_"

The door creaked open to reveal the girl in question. She rushed up to Ron and gave him as ferocious a hug as his condition allowed. Ron wasn't sure…but he thought he felt her lips brush against his cheek, even if it was just slightly.

With her hair muffling his voice, he muttered, "You are my angel, indeed."

Not hearing that comment, Kim's voice cracked, "I'll…see you…in the morning."

Once Anne escorted Kim out of the room, the only sounds in the room were generated by the beeps and whirs of the machines monitoring Ron's recovery.

Suddenly, a white circle appeared in the ceiling. It was there just long enough for David to peek through and smile.

"Thanks again, 'Little Man'," he said. "I owe you one."

"Hey," Ron instantly replied, "I'm alive. That kinda makes us even, right?"

"Yeah," David admitted, "I guess it does. Just remember that recipe we talked about on the bike ride, okay?"

"You mean for that…taco and nacho combination platter?"

"That's the one. Back at the Bueno Nacho in Omaha, I didn't see that on the menu board. It might just work in Middleton."

"Maybe you're right, but…Hey! I just thought of something. What if they put the nacho chips and cheese _**into**_ the soft-shell taco?"

"Nachos _**inside**_ a taco? You mean…like some kind of 'Naco' or something?"

"Yeah. You're the restaurant critic…or you were. What do you think?"

"What do I think? That is downright _genius!!_ A guy with your cooking talent could make _**millions**_ off that…especially if you find a way to sell it worldwide."

Ron waved and grinned, "Thanks, Uncle Dave. I'll miss you."

David smirked, "I'll miss you, too, 'Little Man'!" With that, the circle disappeared.

As his eyes succumbed to darkness once again, Ron smiled and murmured, "Boo-Yeah!"

_**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**_

_**Author's ending notes:**_

_I hope you are enjoying these 'ch-__**RON**__-icles'. I have a few more of these, including a multi-chapter piece involving a magical mask and Ron's first venture into hockey. I will still be posting these every two weeks until further notice._

_**Please watch for new 'ch-RON-icles' as they come down the line. The next one will be two weeks from now.**_

The production of this story, like that for any work of fiction, is solely dependent upon the _constructive_ feedback of its readers. If you like it, I will gladly make more. If you think of ways to make it better, I am always open to suggestions. If you really think it's a piece of garbage, stop me before I strike again!! Once again, _**Review me, e-mail me if you wanna reach me! When you want to 'PM' me, it's okay!**_

Your friend in writing,

The Samurai Crunchbird


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